As the Sand Falls
by Dannylionthe1st
Summary: Getting involved in the plights of others is something Max once again finds himself doing. He shouldn't have saved her. With no vehicle, he knows she can't survive out there on her own. The simple trip of taking her home turns into an adventure that leads to his heart . Max/OC Post Fury Road.
1. Reluctant Hero

**A/N: So, hey guys. Tell me what you think. I've had so much fun writing this first chapter. Can't wait for you to read what happens next. Credit to** Katiebees **who beta'd. Favorite, follow and review. :) If you review as long as you're logged on I promise to reply back no matter how short. Thanks for giving this story a shot.**

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The cool evening breeze was a pleasant relief, considering the day had been long and hot, sun blazing overhead like an unending furnace, scorching the earth below. Perched on the hood of his car, Max gazed out at the desert below him. The cliff he'd parked on gave him the best vantage point for making his decision. He was still unsure which way to go.

The mountain pass he'd gone through wasn't the same range that Immortan Joe and his army had chased him, Furiosa and the wives through. It wasn't the same pass where Nux had sacrificed himself, giving his life away so that they may live. He couldn't bring himself to go back there. Besides, if there were survivors they wouldn't be too happy to see him. And he wasn't looking for a fight. He just wanted to ride.

Behind him, back through the mountain pass, lay the Citadel. The place he'd left almost a week and a half ago. The widows of Immortan Joe hadn't wanted him to go. He had protected them, after all, saved them, they didn't understand that he couldn't stay. He needed to keep moving, to wander. While the widows didn't understand, Furiosa did. No words needed to be exchanged between the two. She knew, and she made it clear that he was always welcome to return if he ever chose to do so. And maybe, someday, he'd take her up on that offer.

Taking a sip from his water flask, Max eyed the west. The distant haze of sand, indicated a large sandstorm brewing in the distance, heading toward him. It was something he could avoid. There'd been a cave a couple kilometers back, one that appeared to be large enough to keep him and his car out of the storm. Fortunately, it wasn't too deep into the mountain so he wouldn't have to worry about it caving in. It was the perfect place. If all went well then he'd hopefully be the only one to try and wait out the storm there. Looking at the great wall of sand, he estimated he had at least a couple of hours before it hit, giving him time, time to think. He didn't know what the storm hid behind it; maybe signs of a city, of civilization. Not that he was looking for a city. If he'd wanted a place to stay he would have remained at the Citadel. No, the storm didn't hold anything but endless plains of sand.

Max frowned as he turned his gaze to the East, a small dust cloud catching his attention as it headed his way. That clearly wasn't a storm.

Reaching over, he grabbed his rifle, bringing it up and peering through the scope. The rifle had been one of the many gifts given to him as a reward for helping the widows and Furiosa. The widows had even managed to find some of Max's old stuff that had been taken from him, including his little music box.

The dust cloud was trailing behind a convoy of cars, of which he counted six cars in total, all heading his way. From design and accessories alone it was clear that all six were part of the same group. However, there was something odd about the way they were driving. The lead car was driving erratically, almost appearing to be trying to get away from the others. His suspicions were confirmed when he spotted the passenger of the first car leaned out of their window, arm extended as they fired a few shots. Oddly, the cars in pursuit weren't returning fire.

Max frowned, unsure of what was going on. His curiosity was only placated by the urge to not to get involved. He didn't care. Besides, who knows, maybe those being pursued were thieves and the chasers were only trying to get their property back. The only problem with that scenario was that he couldn't understand why the other cars weren't they trying to kill the thieves? It would be easy enough, and they clearly outnumbered their target. All it would take it one good shot…

As if following his train of thoughts, Max heard the distinct and very faint sound of a single gunshot, the sound echoing around him. Instantly, the lead car swerved harshly. It was clear that the driver was trying to regain control of the vehicle, but a flat tire and the speed that they were driving made it impossible. Max didn't have to see the driver to know the exact moment that they made the deadly mistake. The car swerved one way, and the driver tried to overcompensate by the cranking the wheel in the other direction. They were moving too fast, the momentum generated forced the vehicle into a tumble, the car rolling several times before skidding to a stop on its roof.

The five chasing cars rolled to a stop, keeping a good distance away from the demolished car. Men got out of cars slowly, guns in hands, but they held a casual stance to them. Max looked back at the flipped car. No movement. He wasn't sure why this bothered him. Didn't he decide that the two were thieves?

* * *

Nova groaned, her entire body aching and in pain. Something warm and wet trickled down her face. Blinking blearily, she couldn't figure out why her arms were hanging limply up over her head, or how the world was upside down. The rock attached to her necklace touched her lips. Her heart leapt in her chest, she was hanging upside down. Had it not been for the fact that she'd strapped herself into her seat, she was sure she would have died when the car flipped. Fortunately, dying was counterproductive to her mission. She needed to live.

"Volt," she croaked, wincing as she turned to look at her friend, the driver of the car.

His body hung limply from his seat belt. She couldn't tell if he were breathing: he gave no indication that he was alive. Tears clouded her vision and she tried to say his name, but she could barely breathe, much less say a word. Fresh blood trickled out of a nasty gash on his forehead, soaking into part of his black mohawk. Like she'd been earlier, his arms hung limply over his head. Blood ran down his right arm, dripping from his fingertips onto the roof of the car. His skin unusually pale. He'd lost too much blood.

The sound of car doors slamming forced her to focus. She was still in trouble. Struggling with her belt, she quickly realized there was no way to unfasten it without cutting herself out. Summoning all of her energy, she curled up, ignoring how the belt dug into her body. She pulled the knife from her boot then relaxed, making it easier to breath. Reaching up, she sawed through the material, almost immediately regretting her decision when she crashed face first onto the roof of the car. Fuck, she thought.

"Idiot!" someone shouted. "If she's dead you'll be next."

The person's voice was too close. She didn't have much time. "Volt," she hissed, pushing him. No movement. "No! Don't you dare leave me," she commanded. Still, her hand trembled as she checked for a pulse. She would kill him if he died on her. They had a mission to complete. He couldn't leave her. Much to her relief, she felt a weak pulse.

She didn't have time to get him down. But then again, she didn't want to. There was a chance that if she left him there, pretended he was dead, that he could survive. Saven's men weren't going to kill her, at least, she was pretty positive that she was safe from death. But Volt, on the other hand, was a dead man if they checked. Spotting a black box in the back of the car, she quickly pulled it to the front, flipped it over and opened it, revealing what was left of their weapons stash. Rustling around, she grabbed her dual kukris, sticking them in the back of her tan cargo pants, making sure to put her grey t-shirt over the weapons to help hide them. All their remaining guns were useless, she'd used up most of their ammo up during the chase. Grabbing her revolver, Nova checked the chamber. Only two bullets left, and way more enemies than that. Mentally groaning, she holstered her gun. Taking one quick last look into the box she felt elated, seeing the last grenade. Grabbing it, she put it in the pouch attached to her belt.

The voices of the men were much closer than she cared for. She needed to draw them away.

"I'll be back," she whispered to Volt.

Carefully crawling through the debris, Nova pushed the passenger door, and it opened with a groan until the gap was wide enough she was able to squeeze through. As she moved, she realized how badly her body hurt from the effort. Nothing appeared to be broken, but she was sure she'd be black and blue for days. Her hands dug into the hot sand as she crawled out.

The men seemed to collectively sigh in relief the moment they spotted her. She gave a grim smile. They wouldn't for long though. With a quick glance, she counted seven men and five cars. She knew there would be more of them waiting. Her mind ran through quick calculations, coming up with a plan.

"Come now, Nova. A storm is coming and we-"

She didn't give the man time to speak, drawing her pistol and firing her last two bullets, hitting him and the man standing nearby. The other five quickly scurried for cover, giving her enough time to make a mad dash towards them. Focusing her attention on the middle car, she pulled the grenade out of her pouch, keeping it firmly clasped in one hand while she pulled the pin with her other hand. Drawing her arm back, she threw it towards them, the thought coming too late that she may want to keep one cars intact.

Feet slipping in the sand, she turned, skidding to a stop. Crouching low, she scurried back toward her wrecked car. Behind her, she heard the desperate shouts and sounds of car doors being thrown open as people tried to get clear from the danger.

 _One, two, three, four_ _,_ her mind counted. She threw herself face first onto the sand behind her car, covering her head with her hands. She felt the shockwave before she heard the blast or felt the heat. The explosion was way bigger than she'd expected, the grenade must have landed near one of the gas tanks.

Peering up cautiously, she looked at the cars, her jaw dropping at the sight. She'd done way more damage than she'd thought, or planned.

"What have you done?" The scream came from her right.

It was now or never. Hurriedly drawing her kukris and discarding their sheaths, Nova rose to her feet, slashing the first guy who come too close. As her blades sunk into his belly, he cried out in pain, folding over as he clutched the wound. Using his body as a surface, she rolled over his back, using the momentum to rush at the other four who were still standing in shock. She wouldn't give them a chance to regain their composure.

The first man barely had time to raise his gun to block her incoming blades. Twisting her blades, she shifted their trajectory, her movements fluid as she compensated, kicking in his knee. As soon as he dropped his guard, she delivered the killing strike.

She wasn't sure why they didn't try to shoot a leg or arm to stop her. Maybe they were too scared that they would make a mistake and accidentally kill her. But that wasn't going to stop her from killing them. Or maybe they didn't want to damage her more than they had. Fools.

She didn't give herself time to think as she darted towards the remaining three. This time, they didn't hesitate, surrounding her and blocking her attacks. One of the men dropped his gun, moving in with a knife, while another man distracted her. She felt a biting pain along her right thigh as the blade dug in just deep enough to force her to her knees. That very same blade nicked her right side. She bit back a scream of pain, tasting blood.

Throwing her strength into her left arm, she slashed the kukri out and up, feeling the blade go through flesh. She heard a gurgle as blood sprayed through the air, the warm liquid splattering on her skin.

An unexpected blow came from behind her, hitting her in the back of the head, and for a moment she nearly blacked out from the pain, falling to her hands and knees. Stars danced in front of her vision as she shook her head, trying to clear it. A hand roughly grabbed hers, yanking and twisting her right wrist, forcing her to drop the kukri. With a cry, she swung her left arm up and behind her, but he caught that wrist as well, holding on tightly. He twisted her arms painfully backwards and up, forcing her onto her face in the sand.

"I will break your wrists," he growled. She couldn't help but cry out in pain when he purposely twisted her arm, showing that he meant to follow through with his threat.

Everyone jumped when a warrior like scream pierced the air, and her head snapped around just on time to see Volt launch himself at one of the remaining enemy. She gritted her teeth when the man who held her didn't loosen his grip.

"Kill him!" he ordered.

But it quickly became apparent that Volt had the advantage. His quick speed and lethality with his knives didn't give his victims even a moment to retaliate.

Nova's captor pushed her further into the sand, body tensing up as he watched his comrades fall. She heard him look around and saw his pistol on the ground, just within reach, as long as he loosened his hold on her. She waited for the right moment. Her captor reached out grabbing his gun. Loosening his hold on her, but not quite enough.

Volt turned, spotting the two. He prepared to throw a knife. A shot rang out, hitting his left shoulder and sending his body back a little. He moved, trying to throw his knife, but another bullet hit him in the chest. Then, from behind, a sword pierced through. Volt spun, knife successfully hitting his attacker in the throat.

"Volt!" Nova heard herself scream in terror.

Her captor aimed his gun at Volt's head, in that moment she felt his grip loosen just enough to free her right wrist. Grabbing her kukri with her left arm she took her captor's momentary distraction to her advantage, awkwardly slicing the blade up, cutting his arm. He let out a curse, throwing himself back, releasing her. Quickly scrambling forward, she grabbed her other blade out of the sand and got to her feet ready to kill the last man.

"Nova!" Volt yelled, trying to warn her. Blood flying out of his mouth. He was kneeling on the ground, sword still through his chest, but he wasn't looking at her. He was looking behind her.

The sound of feet pounding on the desert sand registered too late in her brain. She spun around, not expecting a body to slam into her so soon, tackling her to the ground. The force of the impact felt like it jarred all the bones in her body, rattling her brain around inside her skull. Her grip on her weapons unwillingly loosened and she felt them fly out of her hands. She hit the ground hard, breath forcefully knocked out of her lungs and her vision fading black around the edges.

Coughing and spluttering, she tried to regain her breath, but she hardly had time to take a single breath before a large hand wrapped around her throat, tightening painfully, cutting off her air supply.

Above her crouched a giant of a man, his weight settled entirely on her chest, easily pinning her down. Neither she nor Volt had noticed him. Where the hell did he come from? She'd thought there was only one guy left, but she could see her former captor out of the corner of her eye, nursing his wound. She couldn't tell if there were others behind him, or if she was starting to see double as her vision blurred.

The large man kept a sneer on his face as he choked the life out of her. Panic flared through her. She didn't understand: they weren't supposed to kill her.

She fruitlessly hit the hand around her neck, trying to dislodge it, but his grip was solid. Unrelenting.

 _I can't die_ , she thought to herself. She hadn't - she needed - Her thoughts began to unfocus, as oxygen failed to reach her brain. Her arms were soon lead heavy and she knew that she was barely hitting him. She'd failed. She'd failed everyone. She didn't want to give up. But the back of her mind lulled her. She no longer had to fight. She could finally rest in peace.

A single shot shattered the quiet and the giant's shoulder lurched back, his grip around her throat slackening. Inhaling deeply, she enjoyed the feeling of sweet hot air as it filled her lungs, not noticing as the man above her look around wildly, searching for the source of the bullet. A second shot echoed, this time the bullet hitting the man straight in the head, sending him flying back, sprawled out across her legs.

Her attackers examined the ridgeline above them, trying to pinpoint their shooter. There were only three men left, desperately trying to find cover. As one of the men tried to duck behind a smoldering car he cried out as his body spun, a bullet lodged in his shoulder. The other two were quick to run for their own cover, desperately hiding behind her car.

Nova wasn't sure if their shooter was going to kill her or not. Nor did she care to find out. She could worry about that in a second, right now there were still two guys that were too close for comfort. Rolling out from beneath the giant's legs, Nova got to her feet, keeping her head down as she rubbed her neck. Straightening, she nearly cried out, when a sharp pain flared up her leg and side, causing her to fall back to her knees. Her body was no longer allowing her to ignore her wounds completely. The cut she'd received earlier demanded attention. Looking up, she barely had the time to dodge a bat to the face. Using the man as leverage, she pulled herself to her feet, giving her the opportunity to strike out at his neck with the sharp blade she held in hand.

The edges of her vision blurred as her body swayed, and she fought to stay upright. She could feel her body shut down, but there were still two more men. She tensed, bringing the blade up defensively as one of them stood up from behind her car, only to drop dead a moment later when his head snapped back from a bullet.

One. Her determined and fearless gaze met the last man's terrified one. There was no doubt he'd expected an easy mission when he'd been sent to capture her. He should have realized his error a long time ago. He should have realized it when the fifteen cars that had been sent had whittled down to five.

She took a step toward him, switching the dagger from her right hand to her left, then pressing her right hand against her bleeding thigh. Pain flared up from her wound, but she couldn't look at it, not yet. Soon she'd be able to sleep. Take a nice long nap...Shaking her head, she blinked blearily. She had to focus. Just one more left.

There was desperation in his eyes, anger as he glared at her. His buddies were dead and it was her fault. He must have forgotten about the shooter, or just didn't care. Pulling out a dagger, he shuffled back and forth on his feet. So, he was going to try to kill her. With a war cry he ran at her, weapon raised, readily to strike. He jerked as a bullet hit him from behind, sending him stumbling forwards. Her legs refused to obey her commands to move, but her arms did. She struck out, burying her knife deep into the side of his skull. If the bullet hadn't killed him then the knife certainly had.

His body fell on her and she fell back, staring up at the sky.

The sun beat down on her and she tried to get out from under the heavy body, but she had no more strength. It was difficult for her to breathe. Remembering the mysterious shooter, Nova summoned all the strength she had to roll the body off of her and move to her stomach. To her right, just past the wreckage of her car, she could see a sandstorm coming. In front of her was the mountain. Her and Volt had been so close to it. Safety was there.

Grabbing a handful of sand, she pulled her body up an inch toward the safety of the car then collapsed. Her strength was gone. The mysterious shooter was still out there, no doubt trying to find a way down to them to look for loot. She couldn't trust whoever it was to help her. She could only hope that they'd not kill her and leave her to whatever fate the sandstorm had in store for her.

Letting out a shaky breath, Nova embraced the darkness.

* * *

It was a stupid idea on his end to help the thieves. But something had stirred in him the moment he'd seen the large man choking the life out of the smaller woman. He couldn't stand there and watch it happen. So he'd shot the man, first in the shoulder, not his best shot. But his second shot was true, hitting the man straight in the head.

She must not have noticed the five who were able to escape from their vehicles before the five vehicles went up in flames. One of them snuck up, taking care of her companion, before the larger man attacked her. When Max opened fired on them he expected the remaining three to run for cover, but only two did. The woman surprised Max by killing the third man who decided it was best to attack her, but she looked half dead, arms drooping forward as she swayed on her feet. He didn't think she had enough strength or stamina in her to take down two remaining men. He took a quick shot at the first guy he saw leave the safety of the car. The last guy they took down together. He knew his shot had been fatal, seeing the man's body falter, but if he hadn't killed the guy she certainly had with her knife.

Max slowed his car to a crawl as he reached the site of the scuffle. Blood and bodies covered the sand around wrecked car. Behind that, four of the five cars were blackened by the fire. Parking his car, he gave a quick glance to the incoming sandstorm. He had to hurry, he was running out of time. He couldn't waste to much time searching.

Stopping by the wrecked car, he glanced around, pulling out a black box. It was filled with weapons, mostly guns. No bullets though. Practically useless. Dragging the black box out behind him, he walked toward the only other car that actually looked intact. Max paused a couple of times, gazing around, listening intently, making sure that the bodies in his immediate area were dead. He wanted no surprises.

This car actually had worthwhile gear. Filling the box with leftover bullets, food, water, and just about anything else that didn't look broken or were of interest, Max brought the items to his car, stuffing everything inside. Returning to the driver's side, he was about to get in, when a thought struck him.

 _Don't do it_ , he warned himself. But he'd already started moving toward the other side of the wreck, in the direction where he's seen the woman take her fall.

A strange sound, not quite a cough and yet not a wheeze, caught his attention and he froze, turning slightly towards the sounds. Eyes searching the area wildly, he realized it was coming from the young man, lying on his right side, who still had a sword through his chest. He looked like he was in his early twenties at most, reminding Max a little of Nux. The lad looked up, his whole body shook from his effort, ice blue eyes piercing Max's.

"Do-do-don-" he tried to say, but it was too much effort for him.

Twitching his mouth, Max slowly approached the dying young man, crouching down by his side. The sword was the only thing keeping him alive. He knew that the moment he took it out then the kid would bleed out.

"You're going to die," Max told him simply.

The young man's breathed shakily, the sound rasping and wet. The young man looked at his unconscious companion. Regret and guilt clear in his eyes. "Fo-for-forg," he tried to say, clearly wanting forgiveness. He looked up at Max. Was he asking for forgiveness because he failed in protecting the woman? Perhaps failing his mission, whatever that was?

Reaching over, Max grabbed the hilt of the sword. The lad gave him only the smallest of nods. Pulling the sword out, blood quickly pulled out. Now there really wasn't much time left. Gently, Max helped the young man lay back.

"Pa-pa-pa-please," he stammered, hands holding the necklace he wore. The necklace wasn't anything special. A grey rock wrapped in a silver chain. He took a couple more shuddering breaths and then his arms went slack, dropping the necklace as his eyes glazed over.

Sighing, Max unfastened the chain and put it in his pocket before cautiously moving towards the nearby woman. He was wary, alert for any movement. He knew she was alive, and he'd seen her surprise her enemies enough times, to know that she could handle herself. And wasn't quite ready to get a knife to the belly.

Gazing down at her, he found her hands empty, knives nowhere to been seen. Her eyes were close, and for a second he wondered if she was even breathing. Leaning down, he placed his fingertips against her neck, checking for a weak pulse. It was there, and weak as he suspected.

She wore a short-sleeved grey T-shirt and tan military corset-vest with black twin leg holsters that were currently empty. Her hooded grey cowl covered her head, although dark hair peaked through.

Going back to his car, he grabbed a small piece of rope and returned to her, tying her hands in front of her, before picking her up and placing her in his car. Returning back to the area, he searched around for her weapons, finding her knives partly buried in the sand. They were well made. Taking one last look through her car, Max grabbed a bag of belonging that he saw in the back, along with a few more scattered items. He would rather her not throw a fit if he left any of her stuff behind. Not that he would go back for them, especially since he had no doubt that the sandstorm would do away with them anyways. But he knew what it was like miss his own things.

Items in hand, he returned to his car, eyeing the sandstorm. There would be just enough time for him to make it to the small cave that he'd seen. Getting in, he gave the unconscious woman a second glance. He knew of a safe place to take her too. Hopefully, that would be the end of this little adventure.


	2. Time for Wariness

**A/N: So, hey guys. People like my story! Awesome. I'll try to keep up the good work for you guys. Credit to** Katiebees **who beta'd. Favorite, follow and review. :) If you review as long as you're logged on I promise to reply back no matter how short. Thanks for giving this story a shot.**

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Saven, of the Jackals Clan, paced back and forth each step filled with ire. Long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, that swayed with each pace. He was tall and lanky; awkward looking, with a head that seemed much too long on his already long body. Pale blue eyes glanced out of the nearby window, looking down at the seat beneath him. He was alone in the watchtower binoculars sitting on the little stand next to him, waiting for him to pick them up.

His head was pounding from a massive headache due to worry and pain after having been struck across the temple. He scowled. He couldn't believe that the woman had been able to knock him out so easily. Not only was she a woman, but she'd also been unarmed. He ran a finger over the bump that was growing on the side of his head. It felt like it had gotten bigger.

How could his perfect plan have gone so wrong? He thought back, trying to pinpoint the exact moment things had gone wrong.

It was as if everything had been handed to him on a silver platter, it shouldn't have failed. He'd gone to Concordia, a city of free trade, to give the Merrif a present from his father for continued access to what was known as The Neutral Road. The Neutral Road ran along several territories, going through mountains and desert alike. The Neutral Road belonged to no one. Sure, people got raided now and again when using it, but it was highly discouraged. Those caught raiding the travelers on the road usually found themselves blacklisted from the trade cities. Very few could bribe their way back in. The cities were extremely useful, a way for different clans to get together to not only trade goods, but gossip as well.

There were a few cities along the path, but Concordia was by far the most ideally located. It was situated in a mountain pass, using the mountain itself as part of the city. Whoever the original builders were they were a genius. It was an ultimate fortress of defense, practically impenetrable. Various clans had tried, only to waste men on their endeavor. Going around it would take days, using up precious gas, not to mention the danger of being in someone's territory.

The Merrif was in control of Concordia. His title combined his two professions: Mayor and Sheriff. He laid down the law. He decided who passed and who didn't. No one wanted to get on his bad side. He'd tossed people out of his city before, always making sure that they left the opposite way that they needed to go. Staying on his good side was vital.

Saven had been to the city many times before, always for the same reason, to keep his clan on the Merrif's good side. That's where he saw her, almost a year ago to the date. Sweet Nova of the mysterious Perrien Suda clan, that's what he called her. She was quite lovely under that layer of dirt and grime she collect while on the road. He knew, although his doctor did confirm it later after he brought Nova home, that she was healthy enough to breed. Why her clan decided to use her as a merchant was beyond him.

But they were a strange clan. The Perrien Suda clan was like a phantom: no one knew where they came from, the few who'd tried to follow them always disappeared without a trace. They were highly regarded in the trading cities, often bringing not only weapons to trade, but also fresh food and water. There were many rumors surrounding them with very little hard facts. For whatever reason, the leaders of the neutral cities didn't want to lose their goods or business. Maybe it was because they seemed to be the only clan to consistently bring some sort of food. Whatever the reason, the clan was smart, always sticking to the places that were friendly toward them. But they were only protected while they were in the city.

He couldn't believe his luck. It was as if fate was looking kindly at him today. He was there with a force of thirty men, and she had only eight, not including herself and another woman. Capturing them alive had been the hard part, as his men were not trained to take prisoners. But in the end they had five of them, all of them alive.

Saven had been ecstatic. He knew his father would have been so proud of him. They had three male prisoners to torture to find out the clan's location, and if that failed Saven wasn't above torturing the other woman. Hell, he was confident that by the end of the week he would have won Nova over, and would have surprised his father upon his return. There was little doubt in his mind that she would tell him all her secrets. Saven couldn't have been happier.

He'd tried talking to her, trying to seduce her back in Concordia, hoping she'd willingly go home with him to save him the hassle of a fight. Although she had rejected him, he suspected it was more due to the group she was with, rather than him. After all, they'd all laughed at his attempt, but she hadn't joined in.

Saven clenched his fists at the memory of the humiliation. Rubbing the bump on his head again, he frowned, still confused by her actions.

Where the fuck had things gone wrong? Closing his eyes, he pictured her in that perfect white dress he'd had his slaves put her in after they'd cleaned her up. Her straight dark brown hair looked so lovely and shiny. She would give him healthy, strong boys of that he was sure. And it greatly excited him when the doctor said that as far as blood was concerned she had no abnormalities. She appeared perfectly healthy.

Their breeding program was relatively new, an addition to their society after they heard what Immortan Joe was doing. Before, the women were only given to those of the highest rank. However, it became clear that gathering women who were almost perfectly healthy and having them breed with males who were also healthy could produce full-life children. The Jackals clan wasn't as strong as Immortan Joe, and their army weren't fanatics like his, but Saven wanted to change all of that. He could envision a future where Immortan Joe would bow before him. The thought of Joe brought a rumor to mind, one that he had heard whispered, Joe was dead. He shook his head, throwing the thought away. He'd heard that rumor before.

Her eyes flashed in his memory, green, narrowed and filled with anger and hate. He could partly understand since he had captured her. But she would soon see it his way. He even told her that soon her people would be joining his. That she wouldn't have to worry about being alone and that all her needs would be met. He probably shouldn't have said that, but it was true. They needed her people. Not only because they appeared to be excellent crafters, but also, because rumor had it that they were in possession of nuclear power. Not only would the Jackals be able to produce their own energy, but they could make weapons, powerful old world weapons. Then they would be feared by all.

At the mention of her people joining his he noticed a change in her attitude, her eyes softening. It pleased him. He didn't want to force himself on her, not that he wouldn't. He should have known something was up when she walked to him. He went for the kiss, she went for his head, hitting him with a wine bottle he'd had brought up for the occasion. Next thing he knew, he was waking up with a massive headache and she'd escaped with one of her men.

He clenched his fists tightly. How could he have been so stupid? It was a good thing that his father had no idea what was going on. Saven knew there was restlessness in his clan as his father's health slowly failed him. The older man had gone to visit a troubled city, intending to keep his hold over it. That's why they needed nuclear power. It was something no one else had. To have a hold on a commodity was to be a god.

Returning his view out of the window again, Saven frowned. He should have seen the dust from his vehicles long ago, returning with Nova at the very least. Grabbing his binoculars, he went to the edge of the tower and gazed out, hoping for a glint or reflection from a mirror. No dust from cars, no flashes, nothing. Nova had at best a two hour head start, before he'd sent his men after her. That wasn't much time. Although all five of the Perrien Suda had tried to escape together, three ended up sacrificing themselves, trying to buy Nova and whoever else she'd gone with, enough time to get away.

The doors swung open and he spun on his heels, surprised to see his father, Commandante Gabriel. He was shorter than his son by a few inches, but his presence was menacing none the less. There was very little that the father and son shared, almost as if they weren't related. It was really the strong jaw, pale eyes, and blonde hair that convinced Saven he was indeed his father's son.

"You fucking idiot," his father shouted, voice deep and booming. Saven didn't expect the punch that slammed into his face, causing him to stumble back and drop to the ground, completely surprised by his father's action. His father had never hit him before. No one had ever hit him before.

"I have been working hard to keep this clan together," his father spat, one eye blazing with fury, the other was covered by a patch. "You almost fucked it all up."

There was little wonder in Saven's mind why his father was still able to squash rebellions. He was a scary man when he was angry.

"It was perfect, father," he said, getting to his knees, nursing his cheek. He had to make his father understand. "You would have done it as well. There were only ten of them. And I caught them, but-"

"You fucking idiot!" his father growled, raising his hand again. Saven flinched back, covering his face.

Saven couldn't say he'd ever seen his father looking at him with pride, but he'd never seen contempt in the man's eye towards him. He'd fucked up hard. "Don't worry, father," he said, trying to sound as if everything was going to be alright. "I sent fifteen cars after them. They should be coming back any moment."

Gabriel walked over to the window and gazed out. "She can not make it to her people," he snarled. "You will go after her and come back with her, either dead or alive. I don't give a fuck. You don't come back with her then don't bother coming back at all."

Saven's eyes widened in complete surprise. He was being kicked out, for this?

"Because of you I've had to scramble our forces and waste precious resources," Gabriel said, tossing the binoculars to his son. "You can take whoever, twenty men and five cars. I will know if she is able to warn her people. Because once I get there and they expect me I will know that you have failed. And if I see you at all I will not hesitate to kill you."

Saven couldn't move, his body cold. "You know where they live," he stated. If his father knew then what he had done to please the old man was in vain.

Gabriel didn't answer, instead turned his back, taking a few steps away before stopping. "You'd better hurry, with each hour that passes by she gets further away from you," he muttered.

Unable to reply, Saven just watched as his father turned and left. Not only had his plan backfired, it practically blew up in his face. His body started to shake with rage. How dare she. This was all her fault. He was going to make her pay. He was going to personally teach her a lesson for making him look like a fool.

Max barely made it to the cave before the storm hit. Parking the car out front, he pulled out his gun and yanked his scarf around his face, hoping to protect himself from the abrasive sand. Ducking through the entrance, he kept his gun leveled. He'd been right. The cave was man-made, a connecting cavern at the back, which blocked most of the sand that the wind blew in. Once he was certain that there were no unfriendly creatures waiting for him inside the cave, he returned to his car, heading around the passenger side. Opening the door, he peered down at the woman's face, looking for any hint that she was returning to consciousness, but found none. Reassured, he slid an arm under her knees and the other around her back, hoisting her out of the car, and heading for the cave. Returning one last time, he grabbed the rest of the items that he wanted from his car, including food, medical supplies, and one of her bags to go through to see what she had, there would be time. He figured she was injured, but hadn't had much time to check.

Dropping his bags in the area furthest from the woman, he returned to her, quickly patting her down, searching for any hidden weapons he might have missed. As he went, he stripped her of her unnecessary clothing, tossing the items to the far side, leaving her only in her khakis and grey shirt. He needed to be cautious, he didn't want her waking up and stabbing him while he cleaned her wounds. He was helping her after all, but she didn't know that.

The blood soaking through the side of her shirt concerned him. The cut was clearly deep and would need disinfecting and stitches to keep it closed, adding another scar to those she already had. Rolling her shirt up above the cut so that it wouldn't fall down, he reached over, pulling his medical supplies toward himself, pulling out the small bottle of alcohol he carried. Twisting the cap off, he slowly poured some of it across her wound.

Eyes snapping open, she let out a pained cry, sitting up quickly, only to find his hand on her chest, pushing her back down. As her eyes flared with panic, he quickly came to the realization that maybe he should have tied her hands behind her back, when she swung at him. He jumped back, taking a few more steps away from her, giving her time to roll away. As she did her wild and alert green eyes scanned the room. She momentarily glanced down at her tied hands, before her gaze snapped back up to Max, hands closing into fists. Instinctively, he grabbed his pistol, wondering if she were indeed stupid enough to try something when he had her weapons and she had nothing.

Her breathing came in short, pained gasps, and neither of them moved. Only the sound of the storm outside filled the silence. Her eyes darted over to the entrance. Knowing she had no where to go, Max outwardly relaxed. It was more for her benefit. He could only imagine the pain she was in, and her body being tense was definitely not helping matter. She didn't take her eyes off of him while she limped toward the entrance, face wincing with each step, hands held out before her defensively. Reaching the little entrance, she sunk back against the wall and gazed out. Gritting her teeth, she glanced back at Max. They both knew she was trapped, but what would she do about it?

He wasn't sure what to do, never having been in this kind of situation before. Slowly, he moved his hand away from his pistol, her eyes following his every move. He had no intentions of harming her unless she tried to harm him. And given her present status, he didn't think she would be much of a threat. Not like he was going to let her catch him off guard.

Ever so slowly, she slumped down the wall until she hit the floor. He wasn't sure if she was relaxing or that the fatigue and pain were finally taking their toll. He watched as she took measured and even breaths, probably to soothe the pain she was in. He didn't move from his crouched position, wary that if he did it would cause her to move as well. She watched him, hard eyes assessing his every movement.

"What did you do to my companion?" she finally growled, breaking the silence.

"There was nothing I could do," Max answered simply in return. "He was dying."

Anger flashed in her eyes. "If you think," she started then let out a small cry of pain, bending forward and grunting.

He tensed. Although he knew she was in pain, he felt as if her actions were a trap, a way to catch him off guard and steal his weapon. Automatically, his hand went down to his pistol again.

She breathed loudly, eyes returning to watch him. Grunting to himself, he took out a knife, seeing her visibly tense.

"The bleeding won't stop until your wound gets stitched up," he muttered. Knife in hand, he motioned for her to come to him.

Her brows furrowed as she thought. Slowly, she placed her mouth on the rope, using her teeth to undo the knots. Clearly, she didn't trust him and more than he trusted her. With a shrug, Max returned the knife to his bag, pulling out his rifle and a rag. There was no point in waiting for her since she'd decided to do things the long way. For a few minutes there was the sound of her grunting, the wind from the storm, and Max cleaning his rifle. Finally, she got the rope off, and looked at her side, before examining at her right leg.

"You're the shooter who saved me," she said, breaking the silence between them.

Max glanced up at her and only grunted in response before returning to cleaning his weapon.

Hesitantly, she scooted closer to him, and he glanced out of the corner of his eye at her. She was focused on the medical supplies he'd lain out. He moved back, taking his bag of weapons with him.

She snatched the medical items and quickly went back to the opposite wall. She hissed in pain as she cleaned the wound with alcohol. Placing the needle against her skin, she clenched her jaw as she passed it through. With only one stitch in, she groaned and threw her head back a little to hard, hitting the wall. She growled, rubbing the back of her head in annoyance.

It would have been funny.

"Why did you save me?" she finally asked him, still rubbing her head.

He shrugged and she frowned.

Neither were satisfied with his answer. Why had he saved her? He couldn't say because she needed saving, or that it was his mission to save every damsel in distress. She'd handled herself spectacularly against the group of men who were after her, proving that she was dangerous. The image of her on the ground while a big guy choked the life out of her flashed through his mind. That's when he stepped in, but why? It dawned on him that he had stepped in without a good reason. He'd let his emotions take over. That was a mistake, one that he couldn't make again, unless he wanted to get killed. He should have left her to her fate. What if this was some sort of elaborate trap? What the hell did he get himself into?

She studied him, her thoughts probably as conflict as his were. "Do you make it a habit of rescuing strangers?" There was a lightness to her question, almost as if she were teasing him. A small smile started to escape across her lips, but it was quickly replaced by a wince of pain. She returned to her stitching. He didn't look at her, didn't answer, pretending that cleaning his weapon was much more interesting.

He heard the sound of her ripping her khakis to get to her wound there. Neither spoke, and soon she finished, putting the items back in the bag. He pretended not to notice her digging around for some kind of weapon. There wasn't anything in there for her to use. His eyes met hers when she held the needle up. Then she deliberately dropped it in the bag, closing it.

"Thank you," she said, pushing the bag away from her with her good leg.

When was the last time he heard anyone say 'thank you'? He wasn't sure how to respond, so chose to nod his head and grab the bag, putting it behind him. Curling up a little, she sighed, looking around.

"Did you see him die?" she asked, breaking the silence. "Volt? Was he dead when you left?"

"Yes," he replied, no reason to go into detail with her. She didn't have to know that he helped this Volt die. There wasn't anything he could have done anyway. And he didn't want her to start yelling that he could have done something more.

She licked her lips, reminding him that he had no idea when she'd last had anything to drink. Grabbing a flask from his food supply, he tossed it to her and she caught it, wincing at her abrupt movement. She hesitated then took a small sip, before closing it and throwing it back.

"Thanks," she muttered. She wrapped her arms around her body, bringing her legs up as she stared out toward the storm.

"Why were they chasing you?" he asked, his curiosity finally getting the better of him.

She hummed to herself, clearly mulling over her answer. She once again examined him and then shrugged. "I'm a woman. What other reason do you need?" she replied.

That was a reasonable answer. She looked to be a healthy woman, and until the end of the battle, the men didn't look like they wanted to hurt her. A breeder perhaps? But her fighting skills didn't make sense if that were the case.

"Could you, uh, please pass me my bag?" she asked, pointing to the bag he had brought in. There were those manners again. He wanted to search through it. See what she had, but he didn't feel right doing it while she was still awake. He gave her a look, indicating he still didn't trust her.

She mumbled something to herself. "I'm a little cold. Could you please toss me my jacket?" she asked.

He hesitated, before searching through her bag and pulling out her jacket. He gave it a quick run through with his hands, checking for hidden weapons. When he was satisfied that there weren't any he tossed her the jacket. She wrapped it over her, and curled back up into a ball, back to the wall, head looking out at the storm. She sighed, stifling a yawn.

"Nova," she said, sounding very tired. Her eyes drooped and she blinked rapidly to keep herself awake. "That's my name. What's yours?"

He opened his mouth to answer then decided against it.

"Fine," she muttered. "Don't tell me." Letting out a sigh, she returned her gaze toward the outside.

He went back to check on his weapons. They were all in working order and he had quite a bit of ammunition. The storm would undoubtedly only delay her pursuers if they were persistent. He had three options before him. He could leave her in the cave and to her fate. She wasn't one of his people. He didn't know her and didn't know why she was running. He wasn't obligated to her even though part of him felt like it since he did waste ammunition saving her. He couldn't take her with him, especially since he wasn't looking for a companion not that she would like the idea of traveling with a stranger. The last option he had was the Citadel. Furiosa could protect her. He didn't expect to go back so soon. It was the only place he knew that was safe. And if she was a breeder like he suspected then made she'd feel more at ease there, especially with Joe's widows.

Heavy breathing brought him out of his musing and he looked over at her. She was asleep. Her ordeal had taken its toll on her body. Option three, he decided. He would take her to the Citadel. It was around a week's journey, giving him plenty of time to get to know her a little bit more and see if he should bring her to safety or leave her to her fate in the desert.


End file.
